I'm only a Bard
by ImpastaMan
Summary: Fantasy AU, Bard!Italy x Blacksmith!Germany. Ludwig had never gotten the chance to witness a Bard in his life, finding him a good distraction from his drunk companions. (Fantasy AU for someone special) [IN PROGRESS]
1. Chapter 1

Today was a crispy day, announcing the soft ending to a peaceful autumn. The serenity of this years Autumn had brought much suspicion around the town; allowing it for small talk in local Inns. It would mean a brutal winter would disturb the tranquillity of Lowestoft – which meant little work could be achieved during the time and no work meant no money, which meant little food. The town itself was pretty small, the odd Inn here and there for travellers; since the town itself was situated nearing in the middle of nowhere. Though not many residents were sociable with them, it was primary to befriend each one to lessen the risk of destruction – considering many passers were Mages and high class Warriors, making everyone retreat to safety.

Ludwig on the other hand, as though he was not sociable, he was not intimidated by any. He reached out his gloved hand, crooking his fingers to grip onto another scorching blade. Though his head snapped toward the rack when he found he grasped the abnormally glacial air, feeling it numb his digits quickly. He sighed, the tone mixed with relief and stress. A normal days work took everything he had and with little food to go on, it was quite a fulfilling achievement to motivate him to work through another day. Yet once he found no more blades needed to be tended to, his ripped his gloved off; hauling them across the store.

Once locking and securing the building, he slugged down the steps, a cocked eyebrow accompanied by a frown was met when he saw his elder brother.

"Gilbert, should I even ask what you're doing?" A hand ran down his face, trying to establish through his weary mind what his Brother was even attempting to do.

"Well, we're not going to be open in Winter are we Bro?" A small laugh escaped him while a paint brush stained in red paint was perched behind his ear. Ludwig turned to look at what he was painting, the sign reading 'Glasshopper' with red paint smeared over it with 'Closed' however this only deepened the frown on his face.

"I can work during Winter, Brother. I'm not _that_ useless." He locked his arms across his chest, huffing a little which allowed a small puff of air to be visible, which Gilbert pointed out.

"No you can't! Hell, even your breath is starting to freeze so I'm not letting my little Bro work during Winter, not again!" His usual cocky grin that held whatever ego he had together had been quickly switched to a sulk, making Ludwig sigh.

"Fine. But this time we're salvaging any money we have and _someone_ needs to have a budget. Along with formal training on how to handle the income _I_ make." Gilbert scoffed at his words, simply dismissing it and waving his hand.

"Francis and Antonio had invited me for drinks later, I'm sure they wouldn't mind you coming!" Gilbert knew perfectly well Ludwig experienced apathy toward drinking in public, his head tilting down and raising both eyebrows in a sceptical expression.

"What?" He said, this only deepened the expression on the German's face, "Okay fine, we do need a sober friend...but come on it'll be fun!" Ludwig's face relaxed, his eyes rolling as they drifted over to meet his Brother's desperate face. Truthfully, he'd much rather stay at home and read than stay at the Inn until midnight watching three irresponsible men handle their adult hood poorly – though he cared for his Brother and even though it required some thorough thought, he decided it'd be best to stay with him just in case he did anything stupid he'd regret the next day.

"Fine. Let's just go so I can numb the pain by getting the best beer." He wasn't planning to get drunk, though he needed a distraction from the living hell he was going to experience.

.

"Luuuuuuud! Come jooooooin!"

Gilbert thrust his tankard forward, allowing a splatter of beer to spill from it. His Brother's response was just to walk away, leaving the elder German to whine and extend his arm further and further until he inevitably fell off his stool – His neighbouring friends bursting out into fits of laughter. A quiet groan from Ludwig that was only intended to be internal left him in an irritated state, pacing the bar and glancing at familiar faces; greeting a few. Everyone here was fairly built and tall, even the Women could be classed as such and honestly that could get scary at times. Though while his eyes drifted through the Inn, they met with a man of a different build and posture – a rather large guitar strapped to his back as he flipped through the thin sheets of a warn book. Although the situation had made his lapis orbs blend in with everyone else, they did not go unnoticed by the figure he had his gaze set on. The man turned his head, shooting him a small smile. This was not a Local. He was slender and significantly smaller than many others who inhabited the Inn at the current time, his beaming grin seeming to somewhat starting to irritate him. He walked toward him, the grin soon fading as he realized just how extraordinarily tall this man was compared to himself. His face twisted into a look of fear, seeing the static face of man – he cleared his throat through his fist.

"Can I help you?" His laugh that followed after it had almost sounded awkward, trailing off and breaking his lingering eye contact with him. To him, he was much intimidating than anyone who stepped foot in here, from his slicked back flaxen hair to his bulky build and posture written with confidence.

"First off, I'd like you to sit properly." The smaller male looked back at his legs, there were crossed and rested on a table which he promptly untangled and lowered to the floor, "Second off, who are you?" That laid the man's awkward face to rest, his usual vibe of happiness returning with ease.

"Feliciano Vargas!"

"No sorry I meant, _what_ are you?"

"Uh..."

That confused him a little, tilting his head with a quizzical look passing by his face, though it was soon cleared up with some clarification.

"You don't look like a warrior of any sort or bear the clothes of a mage, those are the only classes we get frequently in this town." As stated, the man looked like no warrior, he was a lanky male with bristle auburn hair and a peculiar curl that jutted from the side of his head – he also seemed friendly. That kind of thing either leaves you lonely and/or dead, and he very much doubted through first impressions he was either.

Feliciano noted the monotone piercing in Ludwig's deep voice, reaching an arm out to grab the booklet and wave it in his hand, "I'm a Bard, I usually stay in my home town to play – but I felt like I wanted a change of scenery, y'know?" Ludwig nodded in understanding, his eyes drifting to his smile that seemed to run off happiness.

"Why aren't you playing anything? Isn't that what a Bards job is? And why are you smiling so much?" The sudden questions took Feliciano back a little, securing his smile and raking a hand through his soft locks.

"Well...It's too loud and yes it is but I might as well take a break from a day's work. Also, because look around you! Everyone is having such a good time together and smiling and laughing, surely that's enough to make you smile, isn't it?" A small sigh left his lips, a breathy chuckle afterwards as he looked back to the stranger. He looked doubtful at the idea, scoffing somewhat after. A small frown found it's way to Feliciano's face, "So...what's your name?"

"Just call me Lud."

Feliciano nodded, Lud was a pretty name to him but he kept It to himself – not wanting to make the situation anymore awkward than it needed to be at this point in time. He reached a hand back to haul his guitar slinging it over his back to his front, removing its tattered cover and fiddling with a few turning pegs. When Ludwig caught him, he watched in awe as he strummed a few strings. He'd never really gotten the chance to listen to proper stringed instruments; the only music he ever got to experience was the Flute from his elder. Though he was snapped back from his trance when he came to the realization that that same bouncy voice from the Italian had spoke to him,

"Lud? I asked if you had any requests!" Ludwig only shook his head, watching the Bard lean back in his chair and think for a minute before strumming at it, playing a soft intro that had quite a bounce to it rather than a normal folk song.

" _Piero dice che l'altr'anno è stato sulla luna,_ " The German propped an elbow on the table, resting his head on his hand as he listened, the sweet singing voice somewhat comforting to his ears – it was a nice substitute to the harsh clangour of metal he heard nearing everyday.

" _Piero dice c'ha piantato funghi e marijuana._ " He raised an eyebrow at the words (Most definitely toward the last word), finding he could not establish what he was speaking. Though the words made no sense, they still numbed the hard workings of the day that he found to be such a drag.

" _La penisola italiana è un suo stivale._

 _Piero è stato assolto dalla corte costituzionale._

 _Piero con il suo gommone sbarca clandestini._

 _Piero è stato battezzato insieme a Ceccherini._ "

A blissful grin somewhere along the course of the song had found it's way onto the Bard's face, lighting up his features under the murky scenery. His fluent speaking had latched onto the attention of nearing everyone in there, people catching on and pointing it out to others while watching and seeming to be in the same daze as Ludwig.

" _Piero ha pubblicato un libro par la Mondadori._

 _Piero è amico siao delle veline che dei calciatori._ "

Ludwig noted how his hands and lips moved with passion, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was switfly snapped out of his daydreaming again when seeing a rather lanky arm similar to Feliciano's own find it's way around his neck as he played. He looked up at the newcomer, finding him to be of similar appearance and physique to Feliciano. His eyebrows felt exhausted at how surprised he was during this night, both raised at the Bard's counterpart. He had a dark, drunk fluster across his cheeks as he sang sloppily along with him,

" _Come ogni politico lui sta vicino agli elettori..._ " The drunk one seemed to have very little distinguished features to Feliciano, though the most obvious being his significantly deeper voice.

" _Ma non vota Prodi e nemmeno Berlusconi_ _!_ " The two sang together in harmony, though Ludwig furrowed his brow at the Bard's perfectly angelic-like voice being disturbed by a not-so-majestic accomplice. Rolling his eyes and releasing a pent up sigh he slid a few coins over the table toward Feliciano, watching him trap them under his hand quickly before returning to strum his guitar.

He watched the swift movement of his hand, the quick rolling of his tongue that formed the beautiful words that were nothing but gibberish to his German tuned ears. His lips were pale and soft, a few wisps of brunette resting over his closed eyes which he had yet to witness seeing.

After a long period of time, the song broke off, the clapping draining from the room and being followed with drunken cheers. Antonio – from Ludwig's understanding – grabbed the strangely alike tipsy man from around the Bard's neck and took him back to his own stool, the drunken man protesting. Ludwig drew his attention back to Feliciano, who had one leg huddled up against his guitar while extending his arm to fiddle with his turning pegs before momentarily pausing and shuffling forward to sling it back across his back.

"So where are you from?"

When Ludwig engaged conversation they talked for what seemed like hours, laughing and Feliciano even commenting on his smile saying 'how handsome it was' and 'that's the brightest I've seen you smile so far' which allowed a crimson blush to dust on his cheeks, the Italian commenting on that too which only furthered it. Though after finding out the time the Bard stood from his chair, stretching his arms upward which made Ludwig snigger; his small frame being no compare for anyone else's build here. The snigger caught Feliciano's attention, playfully letting his eyes roll and stick his tongue out which Ludwig, surprisingly, retuned the gesture.

"I should be going now or Grandpa will get mad most likely," A hearty, breathy chuckle followed that statement; grinning at the stranger, "It was nice speaking and playing for you Lud, maybe I'll come back here one day!" And with that he left, not letting Ludwig even thank him for his job or even question his last words – an extraordinary wave of disappointment shrouding his thoughts. It was suddenly silent for him, excluding all the loud shouting around him he suddenly felt...

Lonely.

That man was something.

.

"Bro? Why are you working...honestly take a break..." A hungover Gilbert dragged his boots across the floor, a clump of hair in his fist pushing into his head.

"Pick your feet up when you walk." Ludwig turned his head making Gilbert the subject to his scorn, returning his attention back to his work. Gilbert only sighed heavily and released his chalky hair from his grip, groaning all the while as he left the room which made the already agitated German leave his brow in a tight knot.

He managed to relax his face to his usual crease in his forehead. Ludwig suppressed a sigh, with the events of the morning so far soon fleeting he was left once more with himself and the harsh grinding of hammer against blade. The hilts of swords tugged at his rough leather gloves; almost even feeling the scorching heat through them. His lips hesitated, but he sighed, not wanting to give in to the boredom his work caused him. His eyes drifted to the window, his ears registering a faint trot. Ludwig isolated his work for a brief moment, grasping onto the numbing windowsill and clearing a circle in the frosty glass. He peered out the window, his eyes widening as he saw a familiar figure happily trotting on a ebony steed – he never forgot the man's name.

"Hey, Feliciano!" He bolted down the steps, almost slipping on their glacial coating. He stood in front of his horse making Feliciano's face bent into panic as he ceased further walking; earning an unamused huff from the horse.

"Oh, Hi Lud! You startled me and Jean it seems." His heart leapt at catching a glance of that huge, delightful grin, turning his attention to the Blacksmith to not mess up speaking. His lips hesitated when voicing a reply, however he managed it.

"Um, ye-yeah...Hi, where are you going?" He said, swallowing the blockage in his throat and connecting their eyes. Even under the misty shimmers of bitter frost, his eyes were still as vibrant as ever, holding their hazel colour and fading to a mousy brown. While Feliciano was stroking his stallions coat, he answered,

"Back home, sometime last night Grandpa and my Brother had already left – surprisingly Lovino left before me..." Ludwig had not a clue who this 'Lovino' was but he was betting a safe guess that it was the man who held his neck hostage for a short while during his performance the night before.

"You're not staying?.." A tint of disappointment showed through his voice, Feliciano noting it.

"I'm always looking for nice places to work, this was one of the best so far! You can expect to see me again, Lud." He tightened his grip on the reins, seeing the town gate not so far he kicked his heels in and let off in a canter.

"Feli!"

"Yeah?" Feliciano twisted back, smiling gratefully at the nickname.

"Call me Ludwig!"

"Alright, I'll be seeing you again, Ludwig!"

* * *

One shot for someone special to me who liked this AU, Thanks for reading & Reviews are appreciated!

(This was the song: watch?v=xbZIdoe1GX8&index=37 )


	2. Chapter 2

"Honestly Lovino, I can do it myself!" Romeo hauled a large branch on his back, resting it between his shoulders.

"I'm not letting my youngest brother carry so much." Lovino simply replied, acknowledging his brothers yearning need to push his physical attributes. The elder, Lovino Vargas, was smaller than his Brother; most surprisingly for a twenty year old compared to a seventeen year old. They were both similar in appearance, two equally agitating curls jutting from the side of their heads – though Romeo's seemed to be more squared. Short, bristle, auburn hair rested on top both their heads, owning these peculiar curls.

The elder Italian placed two moderately sized buckets of paint on either side of Romeo's branch, "How does it feel?" Romeo heaved up from his uncomfortable crouch, Lovino only earning a nod and a readjustment before watching Romeo start to walk down the path.

"Hey! You Idiot, Wait for me!" Lovino had nearing four vast tins of various colours of paint on his branch, securing them before breaking into a light jog to catch up to his sibling. Romeo huffed, scanning his counterpart thoroughly.

"I don't understand why _you_ get to hold all the best paint! My strength can go much further than this, you know. You're no the only one who does work!"

"But I do more work than you, I'm not risking losing this batch of paint."

"But it's not fair!"

"Tough shit."

Not another word was exchanged, Lovino's eyes dulled through the dark shadows that barricaded him from any light; revealing his dark bags. Fatigue slowly surfaced to his physical strength – small, snappy jolts from quick trips on misplaced rocks was making that clear. Romeo kept an eye out for his Brother, offering on multiple occasions to take some of the burden off his back, though Lovino declined with a hiss to his tongue.

He directed his attention back to the path, their town quite a distance away; which meant frequent breaks. Half an hour into the journey, the elder sibling had finally acknowledged his sibling's whining from back pains, registering it time to rest. Lovino sighed with a heavy hint of weariness, slowly lowering the branch from his shoulder blades and setting it on some damp grass. They couched themselves under the terrain of a large oak tree, Lovino resting his eyes and Romeo admiring the terrain.

That is, until a certain lingering question decided to surface itself.

"Hey Lovi, do you think Feli will be home soon?" A sluggish shrug was all that was given in response, and they sat their in a torpid state until soft snores emitted through Lovino's lips; Romeo sighing. This will be a while.

.

Feliciano gave a second glance to the gate as he passed – watching the figure of Ludwig slowly fade out for his vision. Today was once again bitter and harsh, the non stop collisions of biting winds numbing his face; he yawned, only for his mouth to promptly dry from the harsh winds itself. He found himself to be relatively tired, even though as soon as he got home he fell straight asleep to make sure he had the energy for the trip home. After more pondering over it, he found that 'straight asleep' seemed to be a lie, as in fact, he was kept up until the crack of dawn with thoughts shrouding his mind – most seemed to be focused on that blonde specimen.

Nether the less, he kept a steady canter toward home. A soft smile toyed at his lips regardless of the conditions he was travelling in – he'd get to see his family. Even though his Brother's could be quite resentful, he loved them including his Grandpa. Together they kept their family afloat, with Feliciano deciding to make his own living to take the burden of himself off the family's shoulders, they were left with collections of various Items from a not far off town which went by the name Irragin, having to bring them back for the citizens town stock. Lovino had described their town, Niska, to be nothing special to the naked eye, just a plain, small village with friendly town's folk that put all their effort into keeping their place to live. Yet, Feliciano begged to differ. The perimeter of town was lined with a vast woodland, murky ponds with Aerial roots sprouting out and latching onto the sturdy bark.

Though the sight was pleasing, it became victim to the inhabitance of many mythical creatures alike. Some which had never been established, and no one wished to surface. Unfortunately for its humans, inadequate narrow paths were their only way to travel from region to region, or town to town – leaving quite a few never returning, though it was never established if they reached their destination or had perished.

Nether the less, it was his home town and he loved it for all it's worth. The only drawback to living in such a peaceful yet dangerous territory is for someone who hadn't had the physical capacity to learn how to defend himself, it was usually quite the job to return home. Which is why he planned this differently. Of course, the plan he had thrown together had been a lazy one – hundreds of possible repercussions. Over the of the bridge Lowestoft river toward the southern region, there were mountains. They weren't big so to say, but they could be found difficult to climb, though of course with further inspection he found his steed could manage the job completely.

He slowed Jean down, tugging at his reins and cautiously making his way up a slope connecting to the rock. Once up, the path was pretty simple, it was jagged, but simple. A slow walk kept Feliciano on his horse, slinging his guitar back comfortably on his back as he kept the pace. He held his head high, scanning his path for any sign of threat – before tugging at the reins promptly and locking his eyes onto something of interest. Feliciano slung his leg over Jean, hoping down and crouching to look. An egg of sorts, fairly big, defiantly a large bird at best. He scanned the sky, no mother to be found; he sighed softly with relief. Stretching his legs and spinning on his heels toward his horse one more, hauling himself onto it.

Only a few steps more before his head snapped up toward the clouds, his curiosity piqued. A loud screech had came from there, busting whatever had emitted it down from the clouds. It's figure was monumental compared to his steed, a bent beak and spindly tail. Feliciano only knew from his good mind what it was.

.

 _Griffin -_

 _A mismatched work of nature, with the front of an Eagle and the rear of a Lion – this is truly a creature that'll install pure fear into any beings' vision. They are respected in their animal kingdom and can be quite calm if taken the correct approach. Though they are deemed worthy of mass murder for being aggravated by wanderers, their eggs are commonly stolen and raised in the midst of the human race to guard and protect their very species, also to be used as transport; they were found to be quite loyal to their human counterparts._

 _They used to be more calm toward them, however after mass hunting and salvaging along with skinning theses creatures for their unique aspects, they pose them as a threat and are more cautious towards them. They have also decreased in numbers, and now more frequently found dwelling within Mountains and Woodlands, but their numbers have decreased majorly due to habitat loss._

 _._

It roared with fear and might, a following screech as it landed; crushing the earth beneath its claws. Without hesitation, he slammed at the horse's side and span round, he hastened his pace and refused to decelerate at any cost – twisting his head constantly only to watch his predator's position gradually close up to him.

His heart rate grew swiftly, a fleeting moment of dizziness as the Bridge to Lowestoft came into sight slamming his steeds hooves into the cobble stone as he hastily galloped over it, the Griffin making its presence clear by lowly growls. He screamed loudly, tears dripping uncontrollably from his eyes as he saw the beast nipping at his horse's tail. He looked down at the heavily concentrated steed, shuddering momentarily.

" _I'm so, so sorry..._ " He slowly removed his feet from the stirrups, crouching on the seat with a firm grip in the cantle; moving his hands to the reins. He gulped, the Griffin lunging forward and digging into the horse's rear, forcing Feliciano to leap off the saddle and collide with the ground; rolling through the dirt as aftermath. Though his injuries could be deemed minor, it felt as every inch of his body had ceased to move, though he made it by propping on his elbow to see the events of his actions. Though he wasn't delighted to see, he was glad it wasn't him who the Griffin was now feasting on – heaving his body up and sprinting toward the gate, attempting to revive one of his legs which had gone limp and numb from the pain. Any concept of Hope was ditched as he allowed way for his legs to collapse beneath him, unable to sustain with the pain coexisting with the constant whirring in his head. The guitar was still pressed up against his back, the burden not helping with his case - however ditching it would've made no difference, as the splitting headache caught up with his infirmity.

The clangour of armour surround the current area could be heard faintly, along with the distant roars of his past predator. He felt his entire body being lifted back up, one of his arms feeling the soft robes as he cracked open an eye to view the contour of a blurred, murky green. He forced his body to stay awake and not crash under the headache and injuries, though he kept his eyelids shut as the stranger lifted his entire weight and carried him through.

Time passed, Feliciano wasn't sure how much exactly but the loud cry the Griffin had passed through the town had registered it's excruciating pain, it's existence banished. The bane of his pain had been hard to cease, but he felt himself slowly gather his lost pieces and open his eyes once more to be more aware of his surroundings. He was planted on not a particularly soft bed, the oak making hard to rest while he propped himself up. Decrepit shelves lined with many bottles with various liquids in, scrolls spilling out from a bookshelf firmly pressed up against the wall and faint marks of a incoherent language written in an open book which looked neglected. He hauled himself up and swung his legs over the bed, hanging them off while he buried a hand in his rough tresses. His other hand gripping onto the coarse blanket laid over the bed.

"Ah, so you're awake?"

He slugged his head to find the source of what he thought he heard, finding that that very same army like green robe in front of him. A hand made it's way from out the robe, holding a small glass with water inside of it. He tentatively reached his hand out and took it from them and started to sip on it. The bed creaked as the person settled themselves next to him, looking over at him in obvious concern. After a long period of silence, Feliciano had recovered the majority of his sight – blinking to get a better look at his saviour. The hood had been removed from his head, locks of messy blonde hair accompanied the bushy eyebrows that rested above his eyes; certainly a unique trait that of the likes Feliciano had never quite witnessed.

"Honestly, I don't know how you managed to lure one of _those_ here – but you took quite the hit. Did it attack you by any chance?" Feliciano shook his head and took another sip of the water. The man scoffed, cocking an eyebrow and scrunching his nose, "You're meaning to say you brought this upon yourself? Bloody bards, don't know how to protect themselves, honestly. Do you remember what happened?" He looked down at the smaller male who nodded in response, "Well, go on then! I don't have all day." A moist cloth had met his cheek as it cleaned the remnants of dirt left on his face.

"I-I was just going home and it just attacked out of nowhere, it...it killed my horse; but it didn't hurt me, s-sir..." That was the most his lips would allow him to voice, a soft sigh from the other male.

"Perfect," He dragged a hand down his face, " _I don't get paid enough for this._ " He slowly unbuttoned his robe, chucking them to the side to reveal plain peasant clothing, "You weren't hurt to the extremes in that incident, consider yourself lucky. I'm Arthur, by the by."

"I'm Feliciano."

"I know, I overheard you talking to that Blacksmith the other day – I enjoyed your songs."

The bard found it quite odd he overheard them talking; in fact he hadn't even recalled seeing him in the bar but nether the less, he decided not to question it. He thanked him for his compliment, taking it happily. The next thing he knew, Arthur had thrown him some fresh clothes.

"I'm not entirely sure they'll fit, but it's all I can supply you with at this moment." Not protesting, Feliciano quickly shuffled into his new attire, they were a little baggy around his figure; not exactly hugging. He looked over at Arthur who had a guitar between his hands, "It might have gotten a little damaged, but I doubt that matters too much." Feliciano nodded, taking it and standing up, stumbling from the cuts on his leg. He slung it over his back,

"Thank you, by the way..." He drank the rest of the water, feeling mildly better. "I didn't know anybody had seen me." His own voice wasn't very desirable, croaking out his words. His new acquaintance had a few bottles in hand, setting them down and organizing them.

"Well, you were lucky I was at this window. I had happened to have seen you and alerted the guards, by the way - where were you headed in the first place?"

"The southern region, I live in a town called Niska."

"Niska?"

"Yes sir, it's located deep within those forests." He pointed to the woodland through the glass, a cryptic look plastered over Arthur's face – before shooting him a hearty grin.

"I'd be happy to take you home, you know. I've wanted to go exploring there, but it can't just be us both. A simple Mage as me can't defend both of us at once."

"Really? That'd be great!"

.

Paint stained the crooks of the bark, following the natural carves as smoke shrouded the leaves and passed through the trees.

* * *

I will be doing more of this, It's more like a Fantasy AU now. Hope you enjoy!


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